In this day and age, complicating things is a very simple matter. So simple that is much more difficult to do things simply. Soupirs is not very complicated affair. She breathes in, he breathes out. She breathes in, he breathes out: a song. Her heart beats. He wanes and disperses, his heart beats to her. He has butterflies in his stomach. It no longer works, everything topples. He cries out, but she is the one to cry out. It evolves, transforms. Paths cross. There is hope. He can sing alone, she can breathe out without him.